


His Everything

by someoneyoucantstand



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: 2x08, Angst, Hurt, M/M, but i feel like we should have been more of alfred's reaction, historical accuracy my arse, look.... im as upset as the next person and i will eventually write a fix it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 21:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12466192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someoneyoucantstand/pseuds/someoneyoucantstand
Summary: He had quickly become his everything in such a small space of time





	His Everything

He felt cold, more than anything.

He felt as if suddenly all the candles had been blown out and all the windows in the palace had been thrown open and he was stood there in nothing more than his shirt, he felt that cold.

He could feel his hands shaking, could see the paper rustling with the motion. They were pale too - his hands. Paler than normal from the harsh grip he was keeping on the paper and the blood promptly rushing out of his body.

It had taken less than a minute from finishing the letter for his vision to become cloudy; everything around him blurring at the edges as he began to cry. If this was any other occasion he would have already been furiously wiping away the tears with the back of his hand.

But not now.

He felt wetness begin to move down his face, dripping from his eye to his cheek, with a few drops skirting underneath his chin and falling onto his hand.

The Duchess in front of him made her move to leave, giving him one last look before she made her way back down the long hallways. It was then that Alfred, now alone with his own mind, let out a shaky gasp as he read through the letter in his hand once more.

It was hand written by the Queen, and addressed all the highest members of staff about the unfortunate news of Sir Peels protégée. He expected that we would have gained his own in the coming hours but he was thankful that the Duchess had instead decided to share her own.

Alfred read it over once more, his eyes scanning the page, soaking up the information and looking for any indication that none of this was true - that all of this was a stupid story and that the reason Drummond had not turned up to dinner was because he had in fact decided to go back to his fiancé. He could live with that. He could live his life without Drummond as long as he knew he was happy, healthy and breathing.

Of course, there was none.

As if some higher power was taking over his body, Alfred turned and began walked towards his quarters, heavy strides moving him quickly to the privacy of his own room in palace. He moved with determination, as if he somewhere to be or someone to be with - of course, he didn't. His quickening pace almost had him flying down the stairs before he straightened himself out and pushed himself onwards, his speed more sensible and his mind on only one thing.

He closed his door with force, the power flickering the candle light with force as he moved himself towards the bed now tripping over his own feet. Alfred no longer cared for his demeanour now in his own privacy.

Fumbling legs reached the bed and he sat down heavily, his hands clenching the letter even harder than beforehand leaving some of the edges creased.

His breath suddenly felt ragged, and suddenly he was no longer cold but instead boiling from the inside out, his collar chocking him. His hands gripped the collar, undoing it as he began to take deep breaths, his mind clouded over by all sorts of ideas.

Why did he have to save Peele?

Was he in pain in his last few moments?

What was he thinking?!

Was he thinking of me?

It was as if his thoughts were no longer his own and suddenly they all belonged to Drummond.

Drummond, who he had kissed only days ago in the Scottish highlands.

Drummond, who had shown him that it didn't matter and that not everyone would shun him from society.

Drummond, who had sat by the fire with him, drinking in silence because they didn't have to say anything for them to still hear everything.

Drummond, who he loved.

Drummond, who he never told he loved.

Drummond, who had quickly become his everything in such a small space of time.

It didn't matter that he was to wed someone else; they had done this relationship in secrecy and in silence, with only fleeting looks and small touches between the two, and they could have very well done that for the next fifty years. They could have continued knowing that they were each other's one true love, regardless of wives and obligations, they would have know that the other was all that mattered.

But now Drummond was gone.

And there was nothing else left but the lifeless body of the man he longed to hold but couldn't do so under the fear of prejudice.

Alfred, in the quietness of his room, released a sob that to his own ears sounded life shattering.

It's was all over for the two of them; before it had even begun.

**Author's Note:**

> fuck you itv no one gives a flying feck about historical accuracy


End file.
